


Downpour

by i01134



Series: Lake-Locked [1]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Rating will change, monster au, shipping in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 08:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13783593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i01134/pseuds/i01134
Summary: How to stumble upon a beast.I dont want to give too much away, as we all know Camp Campbell has many secrets.





	Downpour

Drip… Drip… Drip… 

 

Davey sighed as he rolled over to face the wall, trying to ignore the puddle growing on the far side of his tent. 

 

Drip… Drip… Drip… 

 

The sound was absolutely maddening. Somehow above the howling wind and torrential rain, all Davey could focus on was the repetitive impact of water from above. He tried curling the pillow around his head to block out the sound. Too thin, the cheap camp pillows did nothing to muffle the dull rhythmic patter. He sighed again as he left it fall back flat against the ground.

 

What had started as small showers at the beginning of the week had escalated into a full-blown storm over the last 3 days. The ancient tarp the camp counselors had thrown over his tent did little to stop the waterlogged walls from slowly leaking. He had been upset two days ago when everything touching the tent walls had been damp when he woke up. He had been livid this morning when he woke up lying in a small puddle that he had  _ no part _ in creating. 

 

_ The waiting is always the hardest. I wonder which is gonna reach me first? Greg or the darn puddle? _

 

Davey stared diligently at the wall as he mused to himself. A crack of lightning made him jump in shock as a silhouette was cast against that same wall. He held his breath until he heard the heavy footfall approaching the opening to his tent. 

 

The gust of wind that rushed in as the zipper was undone made Davey shiver. The boy feigned sleep as the familiar face of Greg popped in the small opening. There was only a small pause before he heard the zipper closing once again, and footsteps trailing away. He waited until he couldn't hear anything, and then counted to 100 before he even dared roll over to face the entrance. 

 

Slowly, as to not make a sound, Davey slid from his sleeping bag. He sat there in silence for a few moments, straining to hear anything, but nothing could be heard above the storm.  _ I'm sure it'll be fine. _

 

This was one of the few times that Davey was glad that he didn't share his tent with any of the other campers; no one to avoid waking up as he put his plan into motion. Davey spent a few quick moments to stuff the sleeping bag with dirty laundry he had ‘forgotten to get in the wash’ earlier that day. He hoped it would be enough for a passing glance, but he didn't expect anybody would be coming by again. _ Who wanted to check on the kids when it was raining outside?  _ He scoffed to himself before deeming his work good enough. 

 

Davey then pulled his bright yellow raincoat off of the backpack he had been hiding in the corner of the tent near his feet (away from the slowly growing puddle). After slipping his arms into the sleeves, Davey was amused to discover that the raincoat was juuuust a hair longer than his pajama shorts.  _ Guess my clothes will stay dry, that's nice. _ Next was the matching rain boots which slid on without a fuss, no need to ruin his hiking boots in the mud tonight. Collecting the backpack he had prepared after surviving another Camp Campbell dinner, he pulled it over each shoulder carefully to not jostle anything inside. 

 

Steadying himself with an exhale, he reached for the zipper to the tent. He stood with his hand on the zipper for several moments as he tried to build up the nerve to open it.  _ This is it, no turning back from here.  _

 

Opening the tent one tooth at a time, soon there was a perfect opening for Davey to peer from. Thankfully, he saw no sign of Greg aside from the rain filled boot prints leading away from his tent. Inching the door the rest of the way open, he moved deliberately as to avoid the telltale sound of a zipper. He only opened the flap far enough to sneak through before repeating the slow process to close it behind him.

 

As he scanned his surroundings, he was relieved to see nothing through the rain.  Creeping around the puddles forming over the well worn walking paths, Davey started making his way past the other tents pitched near his. Dodging between tents without alerting anybody was not a problem, but the most treacherous part of the journey was still ahead of him. 

 

He had been plotting the route all day but despite all his best efforts, it seemed he would have to pass by the dreaded counselors cabin. He could of course try to tromp through the woods and avoid the camp altogether, but Davey had an ominous feeling he shouldn't enter the tree line after dark.  _ Doesn't lightning hit trees or something? _ It was an afterthought, but as a flash of lightning lit the sky, it made him even more sure he had chosen the right path.

 

He had just reached the corner of the counselors cabin when he heard the sound of heavy boot fall through puddles headed his way from the opposite direction. In a panic, Davey dove behind the wall of the cabin, putting his back to the wall as he prayed he wouldn't be discovered. 

 

Davey held his breath as he pressed himself flush with the side of the wooden cabin. The eave above shielded him from the rain temporarily, but he was already drenched from the relentless downpour regardless. Glancing around to make sure he was out of sight, he almost jumped when he saw that he had hidden himself right beside an open window. 

 

From inside he could hear a tv running.  _ “-what some experts are calling the worst summer storm in-”  _ Before he could pick up more of the newscasters words, the creek of a door overpowered with sound coming from the television.

 

From inside the voice of Greg called, “Honey, I'm home!” The joking tone was laid on extra thick.

 

“Did you get the kids to bed?” Darla was playing domestic in return.

 

“Poor things tuckered themselves out, but they're all tucked in.” Davey had to roll his eyes at that.  _ Gross _ .

 

As he sat there silently, Davey tried to catch more of the newscast between their sentences. _ “-water covering the roadways. A flood warning-” _

 

“Brrr, Darla why is the window open?” Greg's voice seemed much closer to the window now, much to Davey's dismay. 

 

“I burnt my popcorn in the microwave earlier, you can close it,” was her reply.

 

_ “-leaving meteorologists in the state perplexed-”  _ Davey winced as the window slammed closed beside him. Once the window was shut, the newscasters words were no longer discernible.  _ Darn, and the weather channel was  _ _ one of the only channels he was allowed to watch _ _ one of his favorites.  _

 

He sat beside the window until the sound of chatter inside picked up again. Keeping low to the ground, he crept around the side of the building and back to the familiar footpath.

 

Peeking around the back of the counselors cabin, Davey grew excited when he saw the straight shot to his destination was clear. Before moving forward, he scanned one last time for any signs of other campers or counselors outside.  _ Coast is clear, _ he counted himself down from three before moving forwards, trying to keep his steps stealthy.

 

As Davey reached the shore of the lake and took a breath of that crisp air rolling off the water, he released a sigh of relief that eased all the tension he hadn't realized he had been harboring. 

 

Davey had been longing to get in the water from the moment he arrived at Camp Campbell. It wasn't that he was the biggest of swimmers, he just had a craving for it. When he had been to camp last year, they had been swimming, or at least visited the lake nearly every day. This year it seemed that the counselors were actively trying to avoid it. When he asked Greg about it, the elder just dodged his question, and Darla had been even less help than that.  _ Dumb Mr. Campbell just didn't want any kids on the lake since he built that stupid summer home out on the island,  _ David thought bitterly.

 

Davey felt mesmerized as he stared at the way the wind churned waves against the usually calm surface of the lake.  _ Maybe I could swim across.  _ His head started to throb, or was it his ears buzzing?

 

Despite the thick fog beginning to roll across the water, Davey could still make out the shoreline of spooky island in the distance.  _ It's not too far... _

 

All it took was one foot splashing down into the ice cold water to snap him out of that delusion. He hadn't even realized he had been walking until he felt his boot plunge below the surface and quickly flood with lakewater.  _ What was I thinking, of course it's freezing. _ Davey looked back at the churning waves,  _ I'm not even that strong a swimmer _ . 

 

Shaking his head as if to dislodge the stubborn thought caught there, Davey tore his gaze away from the water and back to his objective. He plodded his way back up the beach to where the 5 wooden rowboats had been stored along the shoreline. Each step up the shore felt more tedious than the last, like his limbs were becoming tired, like the wet sand was becoming stickier as he struggled to pull each foot up to advance. 

 

Reaching the first boat in the line, he slammed his hands down on either side of the oar holes and took a deep breath. He took a moment to try and assess his situation. Despite the protection of his raincoat he was still shivering at the knees from his cold legs. Quickly he pulled off his drown boot and emptied it onto the sand. The foot that had plunged into the water had already started going numb from cold, but he wrung out his sock the best he could before replacing it and the boot. 

 

He looked back to the water, back to his objective.  _ I've gotta get in there.  _ He shook his head. _ Get onto spooky island. Into Mr. Campbell's house to sleep in a real bed. Because Mr. Campbell told everyone he was going to Columbia. Loudly and a lot. So his summer house is empty.  _

 

_ Time to  _ _ steal _ _ borrow a boat then!  _ Davey finally decided to look into the boat he had propped himself against. Upsettingly, he found that just below the seats the rowboat was flooded with rainwater. 

 

_ Guess this means that I have to bail it out then? _ He eyed up the bucket that was tossed inside, bobbing in the shallow water. He decided against it, moving around the boat as he considered his options. Using the boat beside it for leverage, Davey planted his feet into it's wooden side and used his back to try and tip it on its side. 

 

A good bit of water splashed as Davey rocked the boat back and forth, but eventually he had to resort to bucketing out as much of the rest as he could quickly. Quietly groaning to himself with all the effort he walked around to the front of the boat. 

 

_ It's easier to pull than push right?  _ He shrugged before grabbing the rope attached there and trying to give it a mighty heave. It took a few good tugs at first, but by some stroke of divine luck, once the boat was off flat land it's weight slid it down the wet slope like a sled. He had to encourage it the rest if the way into the water, but was able to push off the shore in him boat without getting any more water into his boots. Putting the oars into their places, it took a few strokes out from the shore before he felt comfortable and steady.

  
_ Spooky island here I come. _

**Author's Note:**

> Davey wears bright yellow on a stealth mission.
> 
> Lol sorry it's like one huge cliffhanger.


End file.
